


The only thing that stays the same

by TheEarLofGrey



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23361769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEarLofGrey/pseuds/TheEarLofGrey
Summary: After the battle of Kaer Morehan Adelaide needs to leave to Skellige, instead she finds the one man who can get her to stay. Inspired by the 'Kisses because everything hurts right now including being loved by you but you’re also the only thing that makes it feel better' prompt.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1





	The only thing that stays the same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeChatRouge673](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/gifts).



Returning to Skellige was always surprisingly difficult for Adelaide. Despite having been born there with ‘the sea in her veins’ Adelaide hadn’t lived there since she was five, not since Vesemir had saved her from that drowner’s nest, she struggled with her connection to the Isles. Even though she still had her stormy nature and aversion to authority (a trait Vesemir had even been able to remove no matter how hard he tried) she could not shake the feeling that she was not welcome in her home Isles after everything that had happened with her Pa. However, she also felt as though there was nowhere else to go after all that had happened Kaer Morehan. Which was why she was in Novigrad, looking for a ship to Skellige, keeping the hood of her clock up, so as to avoid the Witch Hunters and their gaze and her own gaze down so no one could notice her distinctive amber eyes. All so she could avoid another fight, both winnable and not.  
Perhaps she was truly a Craven like her Pa had been.  
Then again Vesemir had always said that a Witcher should know when a fight could be won and to do whatever you could to ensure that as many fights as possible could be won.  
At the thought of Vesemir she tried not to tear up. Her mentor was now dead; he had died protecting Geralt’s Princess and now the one person Adelaide thought could not die had. She tried to remind herself that he had had an honourable death; a death of a warrior. That no other death suited a man like Vesemir more but that fell flat against the tempest of emotions that whirled within her.  
“A Witcher does not feel, a Witcher does not feel,” she muttered to herself in reminder to avoid her grief until she was safely alone.  
“Well, my dear, we both know that is complete nonsense,” an exuberant voice came from her right shoulder.  
She turned to the voice and relaxed slightly at the owner of the exuberant voice, allowing herself a small smile at the gentleman with an outfit so bright and vibrant that it felt to her it should be illegal in such a dark and depressing time. And yet, here he is, smiling softly at her and holding his arms out slightly, gently and invitingly as he always used to when she wintered with him at Oxenfurt. And, as always, Adelaide found herself closing that gap with an ease that she had not known in her whole life and yet found so easily with him. His arms folded around her in response and she allowed him that closeness, as she always had.  
“Julian, what are you doing?” She whispered into his neck, breathing in his cologne that he had worn for as long as she had known him.  
“Zoltan told me what happened at Kaer Morehan and I would like to think that I know the woman I lo- you well enough that I knew the first place to check would be the docks so you can talk about this before you leave to hide in Skellige not after,” he paused then, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead, “return to the Rosemary and Thyme with me, we’ll talk and you can work through what you are thinking and feeling and if you still want to leave after then I will find you a ship myself, my dear.”  
“What would your lass Priscilla say?” Adelaide asked, stepping out from his embrace, “and don’t try and tell me she can’t know, you have written and sung about me enough times that it would be obvious to even a deaf man.”  
Despite her protests she allowed herself to allow him to guide her through the streets on Novigrad, “Well, firstly I have only dedicated a couple of songs to you, my dear, that was all you approved of. And secondly, I doubt that will be a problem we are hardly on speaking terms at this moment, apparently my first thought should not have been to find you this evening but my performance,” he admitted after a slight pause.  
“Ack, Julien, you shouldn’t have,” Adelaide tried to move faster towards where ever the Rosemary and Thyme is, pulling out of Dandelion’s arms, “we have to get you back.”  
“It is quite alright. We both know that, when it comes to you, I tend to forget all other concerns,” he admitted ruefully, “besides, I will hardly complain to time with you,” he whispered into her ear, “I rarely see you as it is.”  
“Ack, don’t throw her away for me, you know we never last too long,” she reminded him, “I can’t give you a normal relationship, she can. Anyway, she is better suited to you what with her university education and all.”  
“Then why am I at your side? Other than to guide you through a city that you have been too a handful of times at most. My dearest Ada, since when have you been anything other than sharp as a whip? And as to a ‘normal relationship’ as you so delicately put it, I have never desired that but I always find myself desiring you when I see you,” he kept his voice low and his lips just above her collar bone, his breath tickling her skin.  
Adelaide, as often happened with Julian, found herself closing the gap with him, slowly turning her head to meet his, gently lifting her lips to meet his, forgetting about everything else that was going on at the moment. This was comforting, Julian, her Julian, being as he always had, kind to her in ways she had never experienced after Zachariah, still cared deeply for her, still loved her. And she still loved him, even if she never quite knew how to express such thoughts and feelings; so, she did what she always did with him and only him, listened to her heart and not her head and closed the distance to his lips.  
“Why are you crying, my dear?” Dandelion asked, wiping her tears away with mild shock but an always present fondness and ease.  
“Because Vesemir is dead, he wasn’t supposed to die, I always thought him immortal in his own way, and now he is dead and that changes everything!” She was vaguely aware of her voice growing louder, hysterical even but she couldn’t quite stop herself from yelling, “But you are still here and the same, even though you’ve aged, you’re still the same and I don’t know how I feel about that because- because-”  
And because words often failed her around Julian, she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him, hoping and praying to all the Gods that had ever existed and ever will exist that he understood what she wanted so desperately what she wanted to be able to say to him. And, as had always been the case, being with him was the only times the Gods listened to her prayers; and she knew this simply because he kissed back with the same breathless passion that they had always shared.  
And that hurt most of all.


End file.
